Should auld acquantaince be forgot?
by motherrunner33
Summary: After four years apart, Bass and Charlie reconnect on Near Year's Eve. Part of The Good Ship Charloe holiday prompt; happy new year LostinMysticFalls!


_Austin, Texas_  
_Four years after the Patriot Wars_

Charlie tugged at the fabric of her dress. She has never gotten used to clothing like this – a dress, heels, jewelry. For a second, doubt flashes across her mind but she squeezes her date's arm tighter and they enter the hall. Her friends from school surround her. All of them have secured dates to the event. Holiday decorations adorn the hall, with festive candles twinkling everywhere. The jovial mood of the crowd is perceptible to all. Tonight is both New Years celebration and military victory in one – the Patriot Wars long over, Texas has succeeded in restoring its original borders, even reclaiming land long lost to Mexico. Parties like this occurred frequently in Texas' capitol city. Charlie found the excesses of these parties to be wasteful given her lean childhood and the many years spent on the road, but she often found she could score a good scoop when the alcohol flowed.

Her four years in Austin were the best of her life. Charlie attended the University of Texas, or what was left of it anyway. The University had resumed operations shortly after the power went out, with the full backing and protection of the Texas Rangers. Charlie had thrown herself into campus life. She relished in the opportunity to reinvent herself. None of the other students knew her parents ended the world. Or, that she watched her father and brother die. They did not know how handy she was with a crossbow or that she had lost count of the people she killed. To them, she was just another student.

Charlie found a passion for journalism and when she graduated, she secured a job with the newspaper. Her love of adventure and comfort living out of a backpack served her well. She had traveled all over Texas, to dangerous fronts in the Nano Wars in Idaho, and to the fallout zones in what was left of the Monroe and Georgia Republics. She was preparing to accompany a delegation to Europe in a matter pf days, and did not know when she would be back to Texas.

Entering the main hall, she scans the room. In settings like this, she hoped their paths would cross. All those times, she hoped in vain. He had been off on one campaign after another. However, this time, when she blinks, she sees him. There is no mistaking it. Decked out in his dress uniform, neat curls frame his handsome face. He has not aged in the slightest. His face is relaxed and he is laughing, with crinkle lines forming around his eyes. Surrounded by a throng of adoring women and high-ranking officers, he was the star of tonight's show. She had often read about his exploits for Texas, as both a military leader and diplomat. He had his arm around a beautiful redhead, wearing a stunning dress. Charlie feels a twitch of jealousy.

He turns and suddenly their blue eyes lock. He raises his glass to her and brings it to his lips. She wants to be angry for the way he left things but it has been too long. The anger has faded. She cannot contain the grin spreading broadly across her face. This is going to be an eventful New Year's Eve after all.

_Willoughby, Texas_  
_Summer after the Patriot Wars_

Charlie was buzzed and relaxed. Her family and friends had gathered for a celebration in her honor, the night before she headed off to the University. The whiskey had flowed all night and she enjoyed the chance to say goodbye to everyone. Now that she had an exit strategy, she almost felt a sense of nostalgia for the town and its residents.

Summer in Willoughby after the series of swift, decisive victories over the Patriots had been only slightly less miserable than summer on the road. Charlie and her companions had fallen into a particular rhythm of life. Gene with his medical practice. Her mother as his assistant. Miles as the new town sheriff. Aaron at the school. Bass had drifted between a few jobs, finally settling as Miles' deputy. Charlie felt trapped in a perpetual childhood. Living under her grandfather and mother's roof, and stuck as the third wheel in Miles and Rachel's newly rekindled romance, she was miserable. It seemed as though her family and friends had all found happiness again, but without a compelling job or purpose, she felt adrift. As these weeks stretched on, the only solace she found was at the bar with her drinking buddy, Bass. They shared stories and plenty of bottles, and their evening routine seemed to make the days slightly more bearable.

It was Frank Blanchard, of all people, who threw her a lifeline. One afternoon, while passing through to check on Miles, he squinted at her and said, "Darlin', what are you doing here in Willoughby? You should come to Austin and go to University. It ain't what it was but it's still the damn finest around. New semester's startin' up in a few weeks. I'm sure I could pull some strings for you, honey." She had surprised herself by agreeing quickly. It was a no-brainer really. Friends her own age? A change to start over? Done and done.

Charlie took a sip from her drink. She felt a pang of irritation. It seemed like everyone had managed to come by to wish her well. Everyone except Bass. After all they had been through together, it surprised her that he had not shown. Miles interrupted her thoughts for a moment. "OK, kiddo. We're calling it a night. Be up by seven so we can head over to the train station." He pulled her into a bear hug and she savored the feeling. Leaving him behind was going to be the hardest part. Charlie nodded and smiled. "Night, Uncle Miles."

Charlie shoved her hands in her pockets and decided to go for a walk to clear her head. She found herself heading toward Bass' apartment. What the hell was his problem? Why the hell did it bother her so much? She found him on the steps, bottle in hand. From the look of it, he had been working on it for awhile.

"Hey." She called flatly.

He raised his eyes. "Hey." He raised his bottle to her in salute and took a drink.

"Too cool to come to my party?" She did not bother hiding the irritation in her voice.

"I didn't know you cared, Charlotte." He slurred.

"Well, I'm leaving tomorrow. Just wanted to say goodbye." She offered. She sat down next to him on the step. Wordlessly, they passed the bottle a few times, drinking as they had together so many times before.

"Well, I'm off soon enough anyway. Sent word to Blanchard that I am ready to accept his offer."

"Oh?" Charlie arched her brow. She knew Blanchard had tried hard to recruit Bass since the Patriot Wars concluded but never understood why he had refused each time.

"Yup." Bass pushed himself up from the step. "Nothing here for me anymore." Her eyes searched out his. They always seemed so communicate so much with their eyes. He refused to engage her, knowing his eyes would betray his feelings. He threw the bottle against a brick wall. The glass shattered violently, and with that, he shuffled up the steps. She watched him go, sad that this was the end of whatever they were. She did not how to describe their relationship, but she was sad that this was the last chapter.

She suddenly ached at the thought that this would be the last chapter. Impulsively, she leapt up the steps. He turned, confused. Before he could protest, she grabbed his shirt, stepped up on her toes, and softly brushed her lips over his. He hungrily returned the kiss and for a moment, it seemed like the passion between them was about to ignite. Without warning, he pulled back, awkwardly muttering some excuse and hurriedly shutting the door.

They had not spoken in four years, and despite the fact that they both resided in Austin, they had not crossed paths.

_Austin, Texas_  
_Present day_

Kelly's voice jarred her back to reality. After turning to her friend for a moment, she looked back but Bass was gone. She tried to refocus her attention back on the party and her friends. She downed a flute of champagne quickly, suddenly nervous. She grabbed another one to sip. Her group found a table and within minutes, a fleet of waiters covered the table with platters of gourmet food. Charlie nibbled but was too distracted to eat. She absently chatted with her date, while continuing to glance around the hall for any sight of him. After the staff whisked away their plates, Charlie found herself on the dance floor. She had barely paid her date any attention.

Suddenly before them, there Bass stood. "Hello, Charlotte." His voice was low and cocky, as ever. "One dance with an old friend?" Her date backed off, in awe of this man. Charlie grabbed his hand, feeling electricity jolt through her body. Their years apart melted away. Bass pulled her very close, clutching one hand in his and allowing the other to slide slowly down her back until his fingertips rested on her ass. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"So Charlotte, tell me about your date. He looks young…" He paused, "…and inexperienced."

"He's not that young Monroe." She shot back, immediately defensive.

He laughed. "Kidding, kidding."

He allowed his eyes to travel up and down her body, not bothering to hide it in the least. His eyes rested on the swell of her breasts, enhanced by the dress. He paused. "You look different. Your hair is different."

She shrugged, trying to pretend he didn't just undress her with his eyes. "It was time to cut it."

"No, I didn't mean to imply I didn't like it. You were always beautiful but now you are a woman. You are gorgeous, you know that right?" He flashed her a pearly white smile.

"Thanks, Bass. You look pretty great yourself." That was clearly an understatement. He looked flawless. He hadn't aged in the slightest. Feeling his hands on her was almost too much.

Bass smirked, "So are things serious with good old 'what's his name?'"

"Nah," she scoffed, "we're just friends."

"Well, that's good to know." Bass smiled coyly.

"How about you and Red? What's the story?" Charlie inquired.

"She's a good lay. That's about it." He was dismissive.

"Why haven't you been back to Willoughby? You have fallen out of touch with Miles – with everyone?" Charlie changed the subject, trying to sound casual but failing.

"Honestly, I couldn't stand to stay in that town. Your bitch mother…" he paused, searching her face to see if she was angry. "…would never accept me. But the Rangers let me start over. They had heard stories of course, but they didn't beat me up over every fucking thing I had done. They treated me like I was normal and I became normal. My life was here and I moved on – figured everyone would be happier that way."

"Well, you look happy." Charlotte smiled. "I'm glad you found acceptance somewhere."

"Yeah. What about you? Was it hard for you to be in Austin? After the last time?"

She nodded. "It was horrible at first, especially if I had to go anywhere near the capitol. Everything reminded me about that day. About Jason." She paused. "But with time, it became easier. I became so busy with school. I found my calling - I'm a journalist now." She said proudly.

"I know, I've heard. You know, this is what I always wanted for you. A chance to be normal. To have fun. To have a real future." Bass smiled, sincerely.

As the final bars of the song faded into the night, Charlie reluctantly let go of Bass' hand. "Thanks for the dance, Bass. I'm glad my last night in Willoughby wasn't our last chapter. It's been years. I'm honestly really glad to see you. No hard feelings. I've missed you." She quickly stood up on her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. She turned to rejoin her friends.

He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her closer so he could speak quietly in her ear. "Charlie, one question: given that you are wearing that dress and it is leaving very little," he paused and groaned softly, "to my imagination, where do you have room to hide your knife? The Charlie I know would never risk walking around unarmed."

Emboldened by the drinks, she took his hand and pressed it against her thigh. Through the thin fabric of the dress, his fingers traced along the garter and knife. He nodded approvingly. "That's my girl."

"I'm no one's _girl_." She shot back, looking him straight in the eyes.

Suddenly, his eyes widened. "Hey, that's my knife!"

"Well yeah. You gave it to me, don't you remember?"

"I do. I wanted to give you something that Christmas but did not have much. I'm just surprised you kept it all this time." His voice deepened, "and I like that it is strapped to your body."

She smiled. "Of course I kept it. It was yours. Miles told me it was actually your dad's. I knew how much it meant to you and I couldn't get rid of it."

Distracted by his proximity to her and the fact that his hand had not moved from her leg, suddenly Charlie became aware that the crowd was chanting a countdown to midnight. "10 – 9 – 8 – 7 – 6 – 5 – 4 – 3…" She was nervous about what would happen next. She had already put the moves on this man four years ago and it ended badly. Something seemed much different tonight, when they met as adults, as equals. "2 – …"

"Before the crowd even reached 1, he pulled her to him. His tongue found its way into her mouth and he kissed her lips deeply and passionately. She found herself pouring years of feelings into the kiss. She could feel his hardening appreciation for her through his tightening pants. "Happy New Year," she breathed. "Happy New Year, indeed. Let's get out of here." He whispered. She nodded.

Bass quickly ushered her out the door. The cold December air hit them at once when they reached the street. Charlie stumbled – the combination of the heels and champagne. Bass caught her before she hit the pavement. "Easy!" He whipped off his coat and tucked it around her, allowing his hands to linger on her hips.

"This way," she directed him down the street, "it's only a few blocks."

"The walk to her place, albeit brief, seemed to take much longer than it should have. His arm had started across her back, but started drifting. At some point, he had pulled her to him and kissed her passionately. By the time they reached her building, they could not keep their hands off each other. He pressed her into the bricks outside the stoop, kissing her urgently and allowing his hands to take possession of her body. She ran one hand down his taut abdomen and allowed it to graze the tight bulge in his pants. Their kisses were desperate, building on all the years of foreplay between them. They had waited all this time and could not wait a damn moment longer. She tried to fish her keys out of her purse, distracted by his nuzzling of her neck and the forceful way he laid claim to the delicate skin there.

She unlocked the door and pulled him in by his tie. He kicked the door shut and pushed her up against it. She fumbled to untuck his shirt and undo his belt. She loosened it just enough and yanked his pants down. He was clawing at her dress, desperate to remove it. "Wait…" she got out, "I borrowed the dress, be careful."

His cool, authoritative General Monroe voice pierced through her still-darkened apartment. "Turn around." She did as he commanded. He pulled her arms above her head and placed her palms against the door. He slowly unzipped the dress, tracing kisses all along her back. He pulled it carefully down her lean body, skimming his hands along her legs as he did so. When he encountered the garter and knife, his eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned.

She remained still while he draped the dress across a chair, awaiting his next command. She was usually the boss with all the men she brought home, but somehow his General Monroe act was driving her crazy.

When she felt him behind her again, she noted his pants were gone. He ripped off her lace panties, causing a brief throbbing sensation on her wet and swollen opening.

"I hope these weren't borrowed." He breathed into her neck, roughly sucking the skin and marking her as his.

He rubbed himself on her backside, causing her to grind down into him. She moaned his name, "Bass." Apparently it was too much for him, too. "Charlotte," he whispered sensually. He spun her around, effortlessly lifting her into his arms and pushing them both against the wall. His eyes were half-open, hooded with lust. He claimed her mouth with his own, their tongues exploring each other. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He cupped her ass. She ran her hands through his beautiful curls. He reached a hand to find her opening. "You are so wet," he murmured appreciatively. "I've been wet for you all night," she whispered. She pushed his hand into her body urgently, directing his fingers into her opening. He pumped two fingers into her a few times, finding her completely ready for him. He pulled his fingers out and started to rub her delicate skin with his hardened member. He paused, before filling her completely. He thrusted deeply. She moaned, almost unable to handle the sensation. He thrusted again and again. It was hard and fast; neither needed much time, both having waited for this day for so long. He guided them both to completion. When he was certain of her release, he pulled out, coming almost immediately on her leg. He stood there for a moment, with his forehead resting on hers. He brought his hands up to her face and kissed her greedily. He reached into his shirt pocket, handing her a hanker chief.

"Ever the gentleman," she whispered and quickly cleaned herself. The cool night air caused goose bumps to break out on her skin. She was unsure of what would come next. She had enjoyed the company of many men in this apartment but no one ever stayed the night.

"Hey," he called softly, pulling her close and rubbing her arms, "That was amazing." Before he could say anything further, she ran a hand down his chest, settling on his now hardening shaft. She wrapped her hand around it and brought it back to life. After all these years, she was nowhere near done with him. She wanted to worship his body – to take control as he just had.

"You are an amazing woman, Charlotte." He laughed. God, to hear the joy in his laugh – he was almost a different person from the man she traveled with on the road to Willoughby. She beckoned him to follow her to her room, where she pushed him into a chair. She straddled his legs and sought out his eyes. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, slowly revealing herself to him completely.

"Fuck, Charlotte," he muttered. "You have no idea how much I want you."

He reached for her breasts as she settled on his lap. He kneaded one and brought his mouth to the other, alternately sucking and licking her nipple. She ground into him, arching back to enjoy the effect of his mouth. She felt the build of another orgasm. She pushed her plans for him out of her mind and threw herself into the moment. She leaned back, allowing him to push her breasts together. Using his tongue and teeth, he brought her to the brink again and she found herself writhing in his lap, moaning his name.

When she came down from it, she found his mouth for a quick kiss. She pushed herself off his lap and sank to her knees. Knowing what was coming, a grin spread across his face. He guided her head to him, softly running his hands through her hair as she wrapped her lips around him. He closed his eyes and surrendered to her.

_The next morning_

Sunlight streamed into her bedroom. Charlie smiled when she opened her eyes to find him there, in her apartment. He looked so relaxed and well rested, very unlike her travel companion of many years who always slept fitfully.

Her mind instantly flashed back to all the things they did last night and in all of the places around her apartment. They had come over and over and over again in each others' arms. They were insatiable. They had done things she had never attempted with anyone else. She flushed.

"Hey." He smiled, reaching to pull her toward him.

"Hey, happy new year." She flashed him a grin. She settled against his warm and hard body.

"Last night was amazing. Happy new year to me." His voice was hoarse.

"It was," Charlie agreed. "Why haven't we done that before?"

"Oh believe me, I wanted it. I wanted you always. You had to know it – you had to see it in my eyes. But I didn't want you to come to me because you were tired of the boys or had worked through everyone else. I didn't want you to come to me and later regret it and think of me as some creepy uncle who had seen you naked. I didn't want to take advantage of our situation. It crushed me when you left, but I knew it was the right thing for you. And now we meet again, as equals. It is different now. You are a woman. You have lived. " Bass surprised her with his answer. He added, "So, when can I see you again? I have to see you again."

"This was great," Charlie paused, "but, I don't know what to say. I do want to see you again but I'm leaving in two days to accompany the Texas delegation to Europe. I don't know what we're going to find. And, I don't know how long I am going to be gone." She waited for his reaction.

"Well," he said mischievously, "two days, huh? That's plenty of time." With that, he rolled on top of her and started nuzzling her neck. She shrieked in delight.

_Eight months later_

Charlie stepped off the train. She was exhausted and felt disgusting after her inter-continental return trip. She exchanged parting remarks with her companions and watched with some envy as they ran into the outstretched arms of their loved ones. She grabbed her bag and started to walk down the platform. She found herself thinking of him, wishing was coming home to him.

She shook her head, as if to dispel the thought – it was a one-time thing, right? She began walking home. She turned the corner, and there, as if by magic, she saw him leaning against an old lamppost. He flashed her a grin. She arched a brow.

It was definitely not a one-time thing.


End file.
